My name is Lu Xuanzhou. I’m twenty-four and work as a picture framer.
My day-to-day life consists of repairing old paintings, mounting old paper, and earning enough to get by. My biggest headache is that before my grandfather died, he insisted I get married.
Then one day, I opened the two bronze chests the old man had left behind.
Inside were just two pieces of black wood.
Then out popped a tiny ancestor, small enough to fit in my palm.
She lives on my shoulder, begs me for food when she’s hungry, and curses me when she’s in a bad mood.
So there I was, a picture framer, somehow raising an ancestor.
Even more absurdly, from that day on, it wasn’t just old books and paintings that came looking for me.
A water-damaged antique painting? Repair it, and something hidden inside comes to light.
A jade ornament with a corner missing? Patch it up, and an evil spirit buried beneath it is exposed.
People bring me old objects and ask, “Master Lu, can this thing still be saved?”
“It can.”
Then I give it a casual tap with my ruler and send it home.
Monsters others can’t kill? I can capture them.
Strange creatures others can’t understand? I can identify them.
Old objects no one else dares touch? I’ll take them on.
Because other people repair objects.
I repair an entire primeval world of mountains and seas.
Only...
Raising an ancestor really costs a lot.
Especially when she has quite the appetite.
